


Those Delectable Moments

by Claire



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: BDSM, Dom Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Exhibitionism, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Sub Nicky | Nicolo di Genova
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:09:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29625447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: Joe and Nicky visit a new club, and Nicky ends up on his knees
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 20
Kudos: 119
Collections: D/s JoeNicky Event, Done Reading(the Good Stuff)





	Those Delectable Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from _Histoire de Juliette_ by the Marquis de Sade:
> 
> How delightful are the pleasures of the imagination! In those delectable moments, the whole world is ours; not a single creature resists us, we devastate the world, we repopulate it with new objects which, in turn, we immolate. The means to every crime is ours, and we employ them all, we multiply the horror a hundredfold.

The club is the same as a hundred clubs in a hundred different cities, tucked down a back alley, with a bouncer on the door that gives Joe and Nicky the once-over before nodding at them and letting them inside.

The woman on reception takes their ID and their money, going over the rules before handing Joe a locker key and directing them towards the locker room. They pass several people, all in various states of dress, on the way before turning into the room and heading to the locker matching the number on the key in Joe's hand.

Opening the locker, Joe puts the backpack he's carrying inside. He's not planning on them using any of the kit in there, not tonight, but it's better to be prepared. Taking off his jacket, he puts that in, as well, leaving him in black cargo pants and a black t-shirt. He knows it's more dressed down than many will be in the main room, but he's never needed the added flash of the clothes. He's not trying to attract anyone else in the club; the only one his attention will be on tonight is Nicky.

Turning to his husband, he holds out a hand, putting Nicky's jacket in the locker as well, when he hands it over. "Shirt and boots," he says quietly, having already decided before they ever set foot in the club how he wanted Nicky to look tonight.

Nicky quickly pulls his shirt off over his head, not bothering to undo the buttons. There's a flash of metal as the shirt is pulled up and Joe can't help but reach out when Nicky can't see, twisting the bar through Nicky's nipple and laughing at the glare that's aimed his way when Nicky's head is finally free of the fabric.

Nicky doesn't keep his nipples pierced permanently, so it's something of a ritual for the two of them to redo the piercings before they go out. It's Joe who decides how he wants Nicky to look on these nights. Sometimes he leaves Nicky with no adornments, needing nothing but his husband's own body. But not tonight. Tonight, Joe wanted more. He thinks back to earlier in the evening, when Nicky was laid out on their bed with Joe straddling him. Thinks back to the beautiful gasps that Nicky gave as Joe pushed the piercing needles through his nipples, before threading the silver bars through them.

Nicky's still glaring at him when Joe moves his hand away from the slightly reddened nipple to tangle in Nicky's hair, tugging sharply on the strands he's now holding. The glare melts away as Nicky moans, biting his lower lip.

Tugging at Nicky's hair again, Joe gently knocks one of Nicky's feet with one of his. "Shirt and boots," he repeats, satisfied that he's made his point.

Nicky hands over the shirt he's holding before toeing off his boots and bending down to pull his socks off, stuffing them into the boots before picking them up. Joe steps back, letting Nicky put his boots in the locker, before closing it and slipping the key into one of the smaller pockets of his cargoes.

"Kneel," Joe says softly, taking the final item for Nicky out of a pocket.

It's not Nicky's original collar in Joe's hands; that is long gone, lost to age and history. Joe remembers the day he'd bought it, back when he was still only known as Yusuf, drawn to the stall of leatherwork in the market of a city that no longer exists. The leather had been soft, supple in his hands when he'd picked it up, his fingers running over the intricate detailing stitched onto collar and the almost delicate buckle to lock it. It had stood apart from the other collars, rough and plain and very obviously for people to use on their animals.

"You seem like a man of fine taste," the stallholder had said, when he'd seen Yusuf holding the collar.

Yusuf hadn't been able to stop the glance over to the stall across the street, where Nicolo was cheerfully haggling over the fruits and vegetables he was planning on turning into their evening meal.

The stallholder had followed Yusuf's gaze, his smile widening when he realised where Yusuf was looking. "Fine taste, indeed!" he'd laughed, before leaning forward, his voice lowering so it wouldn't carry. "My own boy wears similar," he'd commented, nodding to the collar that Yusuf was still running his fingers over.

Yusuf had handed over the coin for the collar, unable to leave it on the stall once he'd thought about fastening it around Nicolo's neck, thought about the way Nicolo would be on his knees, looking up at him and wearing Yusuf's mark.

"Joe?" The quiet call of his name brings Joe out of his memories and back to the present, as he looks down at where Nicky is kneeling in front of him.

"Apologies, hayati," Joe says, reaching out and cupping Nicky's cheek with his free hand, "I was simply lost in the memories of the first time we did this."

Nicky flushes as Joe moves his hand slightly, moves it until he's able to slip his thumb between Nicky's lips.

"Do you remember it?" Joe asks, even though he already knows the answer to the question. "The way your eyes darkened as I fastened the leather around your neck, the way you looked so peaceful as you sucked me." Joe leans down, brushing a light kiss across Nicky's forehead. "The way you wore my spend on your face for the rest of the night."

Nicky nips at Joe's thumb with his teeth before pulling his head back slightly, flicking the digit with his tongue before it drops from his lips. "How could I forget it?" he asks. "The way you made me feel so safe, so loved." Nicky holds Joe's gaze as he speaks. "The same way you make me feel every time you look at me."

Tangling his fingers in Nicky's hair, Joe tugs him up, making Nicky scramble to his feet. He tightens his grip as he pulls Nicky to him, pressing their lips together. Nicky's mouth opens automatically, letting Joe inside. Joe's cock twitches as he swallows the moan Nicky makes, feeling his husband's hands clutch at his arms as Joe's tongue sweeps inside. There's a whimper of loss as Joe breaks the kiss, and he's tempted to go back, to taste more of Nicky's need upon his lips, but he also knows that if he does that, they'll never leave the locker room, and Joe still wants to know what delights the club has to offer them.

Lifting his hand, Joe slips the collar around Nicky's neck, deft fingers fastening the lock. The metal links rest snug against Nicky's skin, and the tag that hangs from the front rests in the hollow of his throat. Joe engraves each tag himself, making them as they need them, and there are only four people left alive who could understand what it says, the language etched there no longer spoken. Rubbing his thumb over the engraving, Joe brushes a quick kiss to the side of Nicky's mouth.

"We're just here to check out the club, and what they offer," Joe reminds Nicky, as he pulls back, reaching out with a hand to link their fingers together. "If we like the set-up, we can come back."

They've agreed to a few months downtime after the last mission. It was a hard one, and they still have to take Andy's mortal status into account, even if she bitches about them doing so. It means they've got a couple of months at least here, and Nicky had wanted to check out the club he'd found when googling, so here they are.

Heading out of the locker room, Joe leads Nicky down a short hallway and through the double doors that take them into the main part of the club.

The main room is busy, but not crowded, with a low level of chatter interspersed with the sound of implements meeting flesh, along with moans and laughter. Comfortable looking sofas, chairs, and tables are scattered around the room, most of them with at least a couple of people at them. There's a currently empty stage at one end of the room, and Joe guesses that's where the displays and demonstrations he'd read about on the club's website take place.

There's equipment along the walls, a few St Andrew's crosses, along with a couple of A frames and a pillory angled in a way that would give access to both ends of whoever was bent over and restrained. There are people using some of the equipment, and Joe watches as Nicky notices the young man cuffed to one of the crosses as the person with him works him over with what sounds like a heavy flogger.

There's a hitch in Nicky's breath as he follows the arc of the flogger as it strikes the young man's back, and Joe can't help but unlink their hands so he can slowly trail his fingers across Nicky's back. Nicky's always loved being flogged, has always been eager to give himself over to the flogger or whip in Joe's hand.

Once, when the moon was high, and the breeze was coming in through the bedroom window, carrying with it the scent of oranges and the salt from the sea, Nicky had spoken about it. Their legs had been tangled together, and Joe's hand had been running gently over Nicky's back, where his husband was half lying on his chest; running over the ghosts of the marks left there by the flogger now abandoned on the floor. The sweat had been drying on their skin and Joe's spend leaking from Nicky's body, because neither of them had the energy to move beyond collapsing together with no thought to clean up.

Joe had believed Nicky to be asleep, had been half there himself, when Nicky started to talk, his voice low, like he was hesitant to break the silence that had descended with the nightfall.

He'd told Joe of the first time he'd been handed a discipline, not understanding what the bound together cords of knotted rope had been for at first. Told of how the priest who had given it to him told him that this was the only way he would be able to enter God's kingdom, the only way to purge his sinful body of the temptation that was in it.

Joe had tightened his hold when Nicky had said that he barely remembers the rest of that night; that he just remembered waking up in agony, with the blood soaked rope next to him.

Nicky had lifted his head, meeting Joe's eyes. "They told me it was devotion," he'd said. "I know now that they were fools." He'd paused for a moment, before continuing. " _This_ is my devotion, Yusuf. _You_ are my devotion. God may have nothing from me, because it all belongs to you."

Joe has treasured that gift since it was given.

With his hand on the small of Nicky's back, Joe urges him forward, towards one of the free tables. He bypasses the first one, instead aiming for one with a single sofa. There will be time for socialising and meeting people if they decide to come back. For tonight, Joe is happy for it to just be him and Nicky.

Sinking down onto the black leather sofa, Joe reaches out a hand, stopping Nicky from sitting next to him. "Drinks first, yes?" he says, nodding toward the bar stretching along part of one of the walls. "And then, when you come back, I think I want you kneeling next to me."

Nicky's eyes darken as nods, before heading towards the bar.

Joe smiles as he watches Nicky walk away, the tight jeans that he's wearing hugging his ass and thighs, giving a tantalising promise to what's underneath the denim. He's not the only one watching Nicky; Joe can count at least four other people whose eyes are following his husband's progression across the room. Not that he blames them. Nicky is, and always has been, the kind of man who draws peoples' attention. Nicky always just laughs when Joe tells him this, saying that he has little doubt that it's the man by his side people are really looking at.

Joe wonders if the ones watching Nicky are thinking about him kneeling for them, thinking about the way he would look up at them with guileless eyes before he leaned forward to take their cocks into his mouth. Shifting slightly, Joe presses the palm of his hand to his crotch. Thinking about Nicky always makes his dick sit up and take notice and now was no exception. Maybe when Nicky gets back from the bar, he'll--

"Excuse me, Sir."

Joe pulls his eyes away from where Nicky is, turning to the young man now standing next to the table.

"I wouldn't mind helping you with that," the newcomer continues, nodding towards where Joe's hand is still on his crotch. "I'm Alex, Sir," he adds.

Joe thinks that maybe another Dom would be running their gaze over Alex's body, maybe holding his hand out for Alex to take, but Joe doesn't need anything, anyone, other than the man who already holds his heart. "While the offer is appreciated, I'll have to decline."

The smile on Alex's face drops slightly at Joe's words, but he nods. "Thank you, anyway, Sir," he says, as he steps back, moving away to join a group at another table.

"I leave you for a few minutes, and already there are people throwing themselves at you." There's amusement in Nicky's tone as he puts the two mugs he's carrying on the table.

They'd been told when they came into the club that there wasn't an alcohol license, and that the bar only sold soft drinks, but he's still pleasantly surprised by the warmth coming from the drinks, carrying the scent of apple.

"They have Turkish apple tea?" Joe says, picking up the mug closest to him, and closing his eyes briefly while the apple weaves its way into his senses.

"They have quite a wide selection," Nicky replies. "Still though, it's a good thing I didn't take any longer to decide, otherwise I would have come back to you having an entire harem around you."

Joe opens his eyes to look at Nicky, noting the amused smirk his husband is wearing. Oh, so that's how it's going to be, is it? Reaching out, Joe places the mug back on the table before he wraps his fingers around Nicky's wrist and tugs him closer. "Nicky--" Joe draws the name out a little longer than he really needs to. "You know that I have my hands full with you."

Nicky's eyes twinkle with delight. "Are you saying I'm too much for you to handle," he teases.

"Never, habibi," Joe replies. "You are the perfect amount for me to handle." And Joe loves how Nicky can still blush, even after all these years. Loves that he was once elbow deep in Nicky's ass in a club in Germany, a dozen people surrounding them, all watching and throwing out commentary, and it just spurred Nicky on, and yet a single compliment from Joe has a flush rising to his cheeks.

Glancing around the room, Joe can see that there are still eyes on them. Not too many, most people are involved in their own conversations or scenes, but there are still enough. And Joe understands it. The two of them are new, an unknown variable. Add to that the fact that Nicky has an ass that could tempt the stars down from the heavens, and Joe absolutely understands why people are checking them out.

Joe feels his cock thicken. He's always loved showing Nicky off, showing the people around them that this man - this wonderful, amazing man - choses to give his power to Joe. There have been days where Nicky has stood so strongly against those who would threaten their family, only to kneel so sweetly for Joe that very same night.

Tightening his grip slightly, Joe rubs his thumb over Nicky's inner wrist, smiling when he feels the shiver run through him. "I think," Joe says, "that maybe you should show everyone here just how good you are; show them that I will never need, will never want, anyone but you."

Nicky's gaze drifts to where Joe is rubbing a hand over his crotch, his tongue darting out to lick at his lower lip.

"Kneel for me, hayati," Joe tells him, absently flicking open the buttons on his cargoes and slipping his hand inside to fish his hard cock out.

Stepping between Joe's spread legs, Nicky places his hands on Joe's thighs and gracefully sinks to his knees.

There's movement in the corner of Joe's eye, and he's absently aware of the group of people on the table closest to them looking over. Nicky's attention, though, is purely on Joe, purely on the cock now in front of his face.

Trailing a finger down Nicky's cheek before cupping the back of his head, Joe urges Nicky forward. 

Leaning in, Nicky licks at the head of Joe's cock, before pressing kisses down the length of his shaft, nuzzling at the skin once he reaches the base.

Joe groans. "Come on, sweetheart, take me in your mouth."

Meeting Joe's eyes, Nicky slowly and deliberately opens his lips, wrapping them around Joe's cockhead and sucking.

Gripping Nicky's hair, Joe hunches his hips slightly, his cock brushing the back of Nicky's throat. And, damn, Joe could live in this moment forever, live with Nicky on his knees and his lips around Joe's cock. Every single time Nicky gives Joe this, gives his submission into Joe's hands, Joe holds it to him like the precious thing that it is.

Flicking at Joe's cock with his tongue as he sucks, Nicky fingers dig into Joe's thighs. He can see the slight movements of Nicky's hips as he sucks, like he's trying to rub his own cock against the inside of the black jeans Joe put him in for the night. Small motions that make Joe's cock throb even more, knowing that Nicky is hard from just the taste of Joe in his mouth, from the weight of Joe's cock on his tongue.

Tapping Nicky's calf with his boot, Joe nods towards his leg, moving as Nicky straddles it, all without ever dislodging Joe's cock from between his lips.

"Rub yourself against my leg, but you’re not allowed to come before I do." The command drops easily, and Joe knows Nicky is close when the suction on his cock increases.

The heat from Nicky's body sinks into Joe's leg, even through both layers of denim and cotton. Nicky's moaning and making little gasps around Joe's cock as he rubs himself off, the vibrations running through Joe.

"Fuck, Nicky--" Joe can feel his balls tightening as Nicky's lips bury themselves in the wiry hair at the base of Joe's cock. And 900 years of sucking Joe means that Nicky's gag reflex died centuries ago, means that when Nicky swallows around Joe's cockhead, it's like being massaged by a vice.

Joe grips Nicky's head tightly as he comes, holding Nicky to him as he spills and groaning as he empties his balls down Nicky's throat, blocking his airway.

There's tears leaking from Nicky's eyes as he looks at Joe, unable to breathe around the cock in his throat, but not struggling away from Joe's grip. It's the utter trust in Nicky's eyes that hits Joe, as it always does, causes his cock to twitch and another spurt of come to wash down Nicky's throat.

Gently pulling Nicky off his cock, Joe hisses quietly as the cool air hits the spit-slick flesh. Joe lets his softened cock fall to his thigh as he leans forward, pressing his forehead to Nicky's. "So good, Nicolo," he murmurs. "So perfect."

"Joe--" Nicky's voice is rough, threaded with need. "Please--"

"Come on, hayati," Joe urges. "You can do it."

Nicky shudders as he rubs himself against Joe's leg, the motions frantic and stuttered.

"Joe--"

And Joe knows that tone, has spent centuries pulling that tone from his husband in every way he can. It's Nicky on the edge, ready to fall, and trusting Joe to catch him.

"Come for me," Joe orders, pressing his lips to Nicky's and swallowing the cry that comes from him as he shakes against Joe.

Breaking the kiss, Joe keeps his forehead against Nicky's, their breath mingling as Nicky comes down from his orgasm. Huffing a laugh as he hears a smattering of applause coming from the next table, Joe raises a hand to absently wave his thanks at them.

"Sounds like someone enjoyed the show, habibi," he comments softly.

Snorting quietly, Nicky looks at him, eyes still dark and lips swollen from sucking Joe. "Not, I think," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "as much as we did."

Hooking a finger under Nicky's collar to pull him back in for another kiss, Joe smiles. "Did you enjoy it enough to come back again?" he asks. "Maybe give them another show?"

"I would like that," Nicky replies. "Maybe you could put me on one of the crosses next time," he suggests, teeth worrying at his lower lip like it's not a suggestion Joe isn't going to jump on, like he's ever going to object to having Nicky restrained and writhing as he works him over.

"I can't wait," Joe says, and kisses Nicky again.


End file.
